


i'm a local

by hwngie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, IKEA Erotica, It's got everything, Multi, PDA, Theatre Kids, Trigonometry, aggressive pda, alexa play sappy by reve, and suju as a whole 4 that matter, dotae2 r sick n tired, doyoungs love language is threatening murder, if you've read this before its mine, jaehyun is kinda tragic @ first, no plagiarism !, oki doki lets go >:3, raccoon attacks, repost !, ten is a wine aunt, they get white girl wasted, we all hate heechul, xiaojun is the neighbor from your nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 01:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwngie/pseuds/hwngie
Summary: a look into the daily lives of 23 struggling neighbors and their landlord (including: free drinks, raccoon attacks, and dear evan hansen quotes).
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le, TBD - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. i. doyoung

doyoung watched through the curtains of his third floor picture window as a dented, mud-plastered white tesla pulled into the apartment driveway. looking across the way, he could see sicheng peeking through his blinds as well. taeyong, a few stories further up, was nearly hanging out of his window, having removed the screen for an unobstructed view.

he sipped his coffee and observed as the car executed the worst three-point turn he’d ever seen. who was he to judge, though? he was the cause of the dent in taeil’s prius’ bumper just a few days ago. he consoled himself in the fact that he’d had the dignity to leave a note. if he completely ignored taeil’s angry banging on his door the next morning in favor of going back to bed, that was his business. johnny, the poor idiot, had opened the door and immediately slammed it again once he saw who was on the other side. 

“did you see--?” johnny appeared from the kitchen, where he must’ve been watching this unfold as well. doyoung hummed and pushed his glasses up into his hair. they were starting to get fogged up from his coffee. 

“wonder if they’re here to stay. if they are, they might have to fight you and mark for title of worst driver in the complex,” johnny wondered aloud. doyoung reached over and whacked his shoulder. 

“i’m not that bad. it was one time, okay? it was dark.” 

“it was like, three pm, and besides, that’s not a valid excuse for _hitting someone with your car._ ” 

“shut up! yangyang was fine: got right back up and smiled. pretty much bounced right off the asphalt! barely a scratch on him,” doyoung sniffed, looking away. 

“he probably got a concussion or something. at _least_.” johnny chugged his own coffee, pushing into doyoung’s personal space and obstructing his view. 

“can you please move? i’m trying to watch.” he hissed, body-checking johnny out of his way. 

“i’m not missing this; this is the most exciting thing that happened around here ever since louis got out.” his roommate hip-checked him right back. johnny worked from home for some tech company, and always found time to whine about how boring it was. at least he didn’t have a commute. or a boss who expected him to be a perfect suck-up. 

they mutually agreed to share the window-space, watching the tesla with identical looks of fascination. doyoung peered up to taeyong’s floor. the nurse was practically hanging out of his window, over his sad little flower box of dead tulips, also watching this development. 

the driver behind the wheel of the tesla was now carefully parking in between johnny’s massive chevy and taeil’s sad little grey prius. johnny seemed unconcerned about the well-being of his vehicle, while doyoung prayed for the chevrolet's safety. the tesla jostled taeil’s car, definitely leaving a sizeable scratch, and he and sicheng made eye contact, agreeing not to tell him. the new resident could experience taeil’s anger some other time. 

taeil wasn’t necessarily grumpy by nature, he’d just been trained and conditioned to be by multiple unfortunate events at the complex, such as a pack of raccoons raiding his apartment’s balcony, a robbery being committed while he slept, and an exploding microwave (doyoung is still confused as to how that would happen). he was the longest running tenant, and had seen (and heard, through the awfully thin walls) enough to traumatize the average person. doyoung couldn’t really blame him for being so short-tempered. 

tucking the curtains back into place, he fixed his tie, waved goodbye to johnny, and checked his hair in the hall mirror before setting off for work. he nearly ran into jeno at the door, the younger resident coming back from his early morning shift at the local starbucks. 

“hi, mr. kim!” he bowed, grinning and holding the door open. 

“i told you that makes me feel old; please just call me doyoung,” he sighed, tucking his folder under his arm to shake the boy's hand. 

“of course, mr. kim. ah, doyoung,” jeno sheepishly corrected himself before turning inside. “have a nice day!” 

“you too,” he called back, swinging his lanyard around his finger. looking up, the tesla, the reason for the new scratch on taeil’s bumper-stickered car, had finally been parked. a boy about jeno’s age but significantly shorter got out, using the door for support. 

“...hello,” doyoung greeted, pocketing his lanyard and looking over the rim of his glasses at the newcomer. 

“uhm, hello,” the boy said, an accent similar to the one sicheng had had lilting his voice, “do you know where... kun is?” 

“kun? qian kun?” doyoung confirmed. the boy nodded enthusiastically, navy-dyed hair flopping into his eyes. doyoung briefly wondered if this was another kid taken under kun’s wing. “second floor, first door on the left.” 

“huh?” the newcomer tilted his head and leaned closer. 

“second floor,” doyoung held up two fingers on one hand and pointed to kun’s window with the other, “first door on the left.” 

“thank you, sir,” the boy bowed deeply. doyoung basked in the respect. none of the kids except for jeno showed him any respect, despite his seniority. 

“you’re welcome. have a nice day,” doyoung waved before getting into his trusty camry, taking extra care to give taeil’s car an especially wide berth. it had taken enough damage for today. he pulled onto the road and set off for work.

he’d landed a job at a small law firm out of college, working as an office assistant to kim heechul, a pompous, altogether dick of a prosecutor. it was easy work, consisting of trailing mr. kim wherever he went and generally being a suck-up to his seniors. 

just another day to cross off of the sports illustrated swimsuit calendar he’d gotten from jaehyun as a gag gift. 

//

“hey, uh, kim?” leeteuk, one of the prosecutors at the firm, leaned into the glorified closet that doyoung called his ‘office’, “would you be a dear and fill these out for me? they’re about the kim case.” he tossed an overflowing manila folder of papers onto the desk. 

“i’m not yet qualified to--” doyoung glanced up to give leeteuk a withering glare, but the man was already gone. “i hate it here. so much. so, so, so, so, much.” he hissed, shoving the work he’d previously been occupied with off of his desk entirely and slamming leeteuk’s folder down with a thump. 

he shouldn’t let them walk all over him anymore. he should just go into heechul’s whiskey-scented office and ask for a raise if they were going to give him their work to do. he wasn’t going to stand for this kind of treatment. 

“kim?” ryeowook, one of the more tolerable prosecutors, peered in through the doorway. “can you please run down to the store and pick up some swiss miss packets for the lounge? i’ll pay you.” 

“of course!” doyoung grinned immediately, hating himself for it. ryeowook smiled and handed him a few bills, turning and skipping back down the hall to the break room. 

_this might be my villain origin story_ , doyoung pondered, tossing his blazer over his shoulder and heading out to his car. 

//

he came home at five thirty on the dot, as usual, to jeno and jaemin arguing in his parking spot. well, it wasn’t _his_ , but it had a giant pothole that usually deterred anyone else from parking there. doyoung laid on the horn for a solid ten seconds until they were out of his way. 

heechul had been a particular bother today, sending him off to a cafe on the other side of the city like some- some _errand-boy_ so that he and his coworkers could lounge around in the breakroom, sipping their overpriced and overcomplicated coffee orders while doyoung angrily drank his apple juice in the other room. at least ryeowook paid him for going down the road to get swiss miss. he parked and let his forehead thump onto the steering wheel. surely he could afford a few minutes to have a quarter-life crisis.

“doyoung.” taeil suddenly appeared in front of his car, arms crossed, still in his stained and bloody scrubs from work. 

“oh, hi taeil,” doyoung laughed uneasily. 

“hello. do you happen to know what happened to my car this morning?” taeil asked, stomping down off the curb to stand outside doyoung’s open window-- why had he opened the windows on the way home from work? 

“nope,” he lied, popping the ‘p’. taeil raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. “really! it wasn’t me.” 

“i don’t care if it wasn’t you, they tore my animal shelter volunteer bumper sticker. y’know, the one with the kitten on it. _my favorite_.”

“wasn’t me,” doyoung shrugged, still uneasy. “try asking sicheng.” he started to roll up his windows, signalling the end of the conversation.

“he doesn’t even have a car! it couldn’t’ve been him, he takes the bus!” 

“just-- ask sicheng,” doyoung emphasized. “have a good evening, taeil.” 

“goodnight, doyoung.” taeil shuffled back into the building. doyoung felt a bit guilty for throwing sicheng under the bus like that, but it had been a long day. 

he hurried upstairs in case taeil decided he had further questions. johnny opened the door for him, still in the same outfit he’d been in when doyoung had left: a crisp white button-up, red tie, and a pair of ratty sweatpants. 

“hey,” he greeted, already turning back to the kitchen where something was obviously charring on the stovetop. “i’m making eggs, if you want some. also,” johnny lowered his voice, “jaehyun’s here off of a bad date. don’t be as mean as usual, please.” he nodded. not willing to risk food poisoning, doyoung politely declined the eggs and kicked off his shoes, his argyle socks following. he shuffled into the living room, taking in jaehyun’s presence. he was curled up on his couch with his bare feet up, leaving humid prints on doyoung’s glass-top coffee table. 

“you’re here again?” he spat, knocking jaehyun’s feet off of the table as he passed. some ancient episode of seinfeld was playing, and jaehyun didn’t respond, just chuckled along with the laugh track on the show. doyoung gave up. 

jaehyun usually came over unannounced to hang out with johnny, although they rarely spoke to each other when he was over, as far as he knew. they seemed to just sit in the same room and eat all of doyoung’s food from the refrigerator. doyoung made his way, holding his breath, through the cloud of cologne that usually surrounded jaehyun and headed for his bedroom, which was the walk-in closet in johnny’s room (the result of a rigged game of rock-paper-scissors when they first moved in).   
at least he’d added nice floral wallpaper and even a painting of a field. it made it seem more homey. there was barely room for anything other than his mattress, so he installed a clothing rack in the coat closet by the door, which admittedly was a bad choice. it had led to many towel-clad journeys across the living room, leaving a trail of water behind him, which led to johnny slipping and banging his head on the coffee table multiple times. 

served him right for eating all of his takeout leftovers out of the fridge while doyoung was at work. 

he was halfway through getting into a cozier outfit when jaehyun called for him. he stomped to the doorframe and just poked his head out since he had yet to put on a shirt. 

“thicheng’th here,” he slurred through a mouthful of leftover pad thai, pointing with a single chopstick to the entryway. 

“tell him to come in, then.” 

“tell ‘im yourthelf!” jaehyun shovelled more noodles into his mouth. “why do you alwayth get everythin’ wif tofu? tofu’th groth.” he asked, still staring at the television.

“you’re a child,” doyoung said, contemptuously, “and i’m vegetarian…? have you not noticed?” 

“it’th none of my busineth.” 

doyoung retreated back into his room. “sicheng, you can come in.” tugging on a hoodie that probably didn’t belong to him. sicheng was standing in the entryway, looking murderous.

“why did you tell taeil to come over?” he hissed, pulling doyoung closer by the neck of the hoodie. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, “i had to. i couldn’t just set taeil on the kid on his first day.” 

“i get it. you like kids,” doyoung did _not_ like kids. jeno was an exception. he allowed sicheng to continue anyway, “you just wanted to help him; but never send taeil over. ever.” 

doyoung just nodded, stepping back into the relative safety of his living room. “i guess you can come in.” 

“oh, hi, win. want some eggs?” johnny shuffled out of the kitchen, charred plate of unrecognizable food in his hands. sicheng immediately shook his head. “your loss.” johnny shrugged, flopping onto doyoung’s couch next to jaehyun. 

“what’s he doing here again? doesn’t he have his own apartment?” sicheng asked quietly, tossing his head to jaehyun. 

“yeah. i guess he had a tinder date that didn’t go very well so… now he’s brooding here instead of his ‘bachelor pad’, for whatever reason.” doyoung sat on the opposite end of the couch as jaehyun, as far away as possible, while sicheng just plopped down on the floor. 

they all settled in, ignoring the thumps and frustrated screamed curses from the neighbor upstairs (they’d just moved in and were having a difficult time assembling their ikea furniture. doyoung had already nagged johnny into going up to help them out tomorrow afternoon).

johnny picked at the least-burned parts of his egg, jaehyun finished the stolen pad thai (abandoning the to-go container on the coffee table as usual), sicheng tilted his head at the screen, attempting to understand the jokes on the show, and doyoung desperately wished he was somewhere else. 

if only he’d gone to medical school rather than law school, like his parents had wanted. maybe he’d be in a hospital, saving someone’s life, or at home in some fancy modern mansion, drinking fine wine with cubed cheese and cuddled up to a significant other, watching a romcom. maybe he’d have a cat, and a boat that he never used, and a lexus-- 

jaehyun accidentally kicked him in the side of the head as he stretched out to take up the entirety of the couch, knocking him from his unattainable daydream and back into his disappointing reality. 

“sorry,” jaehyun belatedly apologized, eyes still glued to the tv. doyoung nodded once, accepting it anyway, and went back to watching elaine and jerry argue. sicheng tilted his head back onto the edge of the coffee table and shut his eyes, clearly giving up on figuring out what was going on since he’d started watching halfway through the episode. 

doyoung had watched every episode at least three times seeing as it was johnny’s favorite show to use as background noise. he started nodding off, hanging in the pleasant fog between asleep and awake for a few hours until johnny asked him to run down to the store to get some more popcorn. 

“sure,” he agreed, surprising himself. usually he’d tell johnny to send jaehyun or to just go get it himself. he nudged sicheng, walking him up, and told him to go back home to sleep unless he wanted to sleep in the closet. 

“thanks.” johnny murmured. doyoung hummed and bundled himself up in his parka, hooking sicheng’s elbow and shuffling down the hall with him to his apartment. he was lucky enough to not have a roommate, plus he lived on the bottom floor with all the old ladies and taeil. speaking of taeil, doyoung crept down the hall and didn’t speak, afraid that taeil would hear him and emerge from the beat-up door down the hall. 

“goodnight,” he mouthed, pushing sicheng into his own apartment. 

“night,” sicheng whispered back. doyoung ran away and into the main hall, where he was nearly mowed down by jeno, on his skateboard, followed by jisung. jisung was obviously in the process of learning how to skate, evident by the scrapes on his chin and elbows. 

“hi, doyoung!” jeno greeted, his signature scrunched up grin on his face. doyoung lifted his index finger to his lips, shushing him. 

“good evening, sir.” jisung whispered, obviously getting the hint. 

“he doesn’t like to be called that.” jeno neatly hopped off of his skateboard and stomped on one side, flipping it up into his hand to carry. jisung, seeing this, attempted it but failed miserably. 

“didn’t kun tell you not to ride those in the hallways anymore after hyuck got mowed down?” 

“...yes,” jeno mumbled. 

“then at least make sure nobody’s watching. you’ve got my permission to run jaehyun over, though. he’ll have it coming.” 

“are we your hired hitmen now?” jisung clumsily got back onto the board, wobbling. 

“i guess so. he’s been moping around my apartment after his date went south. he’s eating us out of house and home, at this point.” 

“we just don’t have food.” jeno said, frowning, “we get takeout.”

doyoung sighed. “how are you and jaemin still _alive_? you kids don’t know how to take care of yourselves. come on, we’re going to the store.” 

no, doyoung didn’t like kids. teenagers, either. young adults were a headache. however, he felt some awful sense of responsibility to make sure the kids could stay alive, seeing as they had little (jeno) to no (yangyang) self preservation and their parents either lived far away or had no interest in taking them back in. of course, his sense of responsibility was nowhere near kun’s, who was a full-on mother hen at this point, but he still wanted to check in on them every now and then. 

“really?” jeno gaped, “i mean. thank you.” 

“i’ll even take you to whole foods. on me,” doyoung added. he didn’t really need that aquarium he was saving up for anyway. besides, jeno, jaemin, and jisung practically lived on instant food and pizza these days. renjun was the only one who knew basic cooking. 

“yeah. c’mon, i haven’t got all night.” doyoung waved them along with him to his car. 

“SHOTGUN!” jisung screeched, seemingly on instinct. he apologized profusely immediately afterwards.

“usually jaemin beats me to it,” he explained. 

“your car smells really good,” jeno said from the backseat, “like… paper. and old people.” doyoung wasn’t sure how that was a good thing, but thanked jeno anyway. 

“can we please listen to the radio?” jisung asked, hesitant. 

“sure.” doyoung turned on the stereo and was immediately assaulted with npr on max volume. jeno screamed and covered his ears as the reporter droned about the amazon jungle. doyoung managed to turn it down and switch it to a y2k station. 

jeno and jisung proceeded to sing along increasingly louder to gwen stefani all the way to whole foods. 

“alright, jeno, you’re pushing the cart. jisung, follow me.” 

// 

around thirty seconds later, doyoung was regretting his decision to appoint jeno to cart-pushing. he nearly ran down an old man about ten feet into the store, then overcorrected himself and ran over doyoungs toes. 

“alright, so i’ll push the cart. we’re going to the dry foods section first, to get pasta and crackers and everything basic, then we can go to the freezer aisles for ready-to-cook stuff.” he announced, already wheeling away from the two. he understood why his mother used to hate taking him shopping with her as a child-- jisung just plodded after him like a lost puppy and tried to sneak cereal into the cart, and jeno disappeared every few seconds, reemerging with something that he’d never use and asking for it with those stupid puppy eyes of his. 

“no.”

“nope.” 

“not today.” 

“why would you even need that?” he wrinkled his nose at a full wheel of gourmet cheese that jeno was holding. 

“it’s cool.” jeno shrugged. 

“put it back.” 

“but it’s cool!” jisung whined for a few more seconds until doyoung looked at him over the top of his glasses. apparently he had perfected his ‘do not argue with me’ glare. he mentally patted himself on the back. 

“that should be it.” doyoung placed the last item, a box of ritz crackers, on top of the pile in the cart. 

“this is how much you have to buy?” jeno marvelled. 

“yes, this is what adulthood is like.” doyoung said drily. he could practically see the fund for his aquarium drying up. 

“can we please get gum?” jisung begged, and doyoung was opening his mouth to say no when jeno turned and activated his puppy eyes. doyoung averted his gaze, because jeno had discovered that that face of his could be _weaponized_ and he had since used it to get whatever he wanted. 

“no, we’re getting coffee on the way back as a treat.” 

“jaemin says i shouldn’t have caffeine after two pm, though,” jisung whined. 

“just don’t tell him, then?” doyoung suggested, frowning. 

“jisung gets really hyper when he has coffee.” jeno informed, nodding wisely. “he talks for hours.” 

“fine, just get gum, then. watermelon, please,” doyoung sighed. 

“i actually like bubblemint better.” jeno piped up nervously. jeno clutches the bubblemint gum to his chest and only hands it over to the cashier when they need to scan it. 

doyoung winces and kisses his dreams of the aquarium goodbye when it’s time to pay.

// 

“thank you!” jisung finally says, hopping out of the car again once they’re back at the apartment complex. 

“yeah, yeah. don’t tell anyone i did this; they’ll think i’m getting soft,” doyoung grumbled and grabbed the remaining two grocery bags, and he forgot the popcorn which was _literally_ all he was meant to be buying in the first place. he followed the two up to their apartment and set the bags down on the counter. 

jisung immediately gestured for them to shut up because the tiny curled up lump on the floor in front of the register was jaemin and he had to go to work soon. doyoung couldn’t quite remember what jaemin did; honestly he’d thought the boy was unemployed. they wordlessly unpacked the bags, filling up the cabinets and cleaning out the unidentifiable remains of food from the fridge shelves. 

jeno didn’t lie; their cabinets were _bare_ with the exception of one can of expired tuna and a jar of something that might’ve been kimchi at some point but hadn’t been refrigerated. the entire place smelled like axe body spray and peppermint from the essential oil dispenser in the corner (definitely jaemin’s), and doyoung knew he couldn’t leave them living like this with a clear conscience. 

maybe he could visit once a week to cook for them. it couldn’t hurt. 

jeno sat up on the counter and yawned, covering his mouth with his sleeve. 

“you look tired, and i need to get back to my own apartment. i left johnny and jaehyun in there without adult supervision. they might burn the building down,” he said. jeno took it as a joke and snickered. jisung reappeared from the little hallway and announced his presence with ‘enter stage left: jisung’, with little jazz hands. doyoung furrowed his brows. 

“he was a theatre kid in high school and never really grew out of it, watch,” jeno whispered, “we start with stars in our eyes--” 

“we start believing that we belong…” jisung finished quietly, seemingly unconscious of it until he glanced up and saw doyoung barely containing laughter.

“night,” he waved and tiptoed into the living room, tapping jaemin to wake him up and wincing at the smack he received as a consequence. “c’mon, you need to get up for work-- hey, hey, hey, don’t pull me down-- LET GO!” jisung pleaded as jaemin tugged him down into a hug. jeno started water for coffee in some vintage kettle that was burned so badly doyoung could no longer tell what color it used to be. he felt out of place. 

“have a good night. you two need to get your rest.” 

“i’m not going to sleep; i’m getting ready for work before school. only jisung gets to sleep… three hours? yeah, three hours. he’s got school soon.” jeno laughed in a self-deprecating manner. 

“how many jobs do you _have_?” doyoung asked. 

“as many as it takes to pay for my tuition,” jeno sighed and stared into the space to the left of doyoung’s head for a moment. he averted his gaze back to where jisung was unsuccessfully trying to free himself from jaemin’s clutches.

“i love you,” jaemin singsonged, pulling jisung back down on top of himself and wrapping his arms and legs around him like a big sleep deprived koala. 

“i know,” jisung whined, prying one of jaemin’s legs off of him. “now let go of me, you leech.”

“i’ve got to get going. it’s… oh. it’s three in the morning, now.” doyoung said, looking at his phone. “i’ve got work in the morning.” 

“have a nice night,” jeno called over the muffled screams of jisung, then shut their apartment door, the christmas wreath that they haven’t taken down yet shaking dead needles all over doyoungs slippers. 

// 

“get up,” he said, prodding jaehyun with his big toe, “go home.” 

“can’t,” jaehyun slurred, “too tired. an’ johnny said i could stay.” his face was smushed rather unattractively on the glass-top coffee table. his breath was fogging it all up. 

“fine. just stay quiet and please don’t talk to me.” doyoung requested, then turned away to shuffle into his closet, flopping into his bed and rolling himself up in his duvet. johnny’s even breathing was the only thing interrupting the silence; he breathed like a water buffalo when he slept. doyoung pressed his earplugs in and shut the creaky closet door, locking it from the inside. it only gave him a minor reprieve from his roommates gasps of air. 

he stared at the ceiling for a while before coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to be able to get a full night of sleep.

he found himself wondering if jaehyun was cold, because the heating automatically turned off after midnight and the window in the kitchen never closes all the way, letting freezing, cigarette-smoke scented air in. also, he never gave jaehyun a real blanket, just the chunky-knit alpaca wool one that does absolutely nothing to preserve body heat but makes a great decoration.

with a resigned sigh, he threw the comforter off and creaked open the closet doors again. he tugged one of johnny’s blankets straight off his sleeping person and tiptoed out into the main area. it was freezing, and even he was cold as soon as he stepped in. accompanying the foggy glass in front of jaehyun was now a small puddle of drool. doyoung curled his lip and considered turning back, but slowly draped the blanket over his tragic romantic dick of a neighbor anyway, mostly out of fear of karma. 

he was too nice for his own good.


	2. ii. kun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chenle's here !!! ++ we get to meet the dreamies (-mark)

of the strange things that had happened in the complex in the time kun had lived here, this had to be the weirdest: he’d been in the middle of making pancakes for the kids when there came a knock at his door.

this was a red flag in a number of ways. first: nobody ever knocked on his door anymore, despite his protests; they just walked on in. whether he was half-naked, asleep, or out running errands, his neighbors would just make themselves at home. second: nobody was supposed to be awake at this hour. it was about seven, and only maybe jisung would be up and getting ready for school about now.

thinking it was an emergency, he ran to the door, nearly slipping on the kitchen tiles, and swung it open, fully prepared to deal with a horrific injury or maybe the super coming to inspect the suspicious moldy stain in the guest bathroom. none of these things waited for him when he opened it, just a slightly dishevelled kid with a slight nosebleed. 

“are you… kun?” he asked, tilting his head.

“yes, are you lost?” the boy nodded slowly, face crumpling up as though he were going to cry.

“you are kun?” he confirmed. kun nodded. “i’m chenle. your old friend?” 

“you’re… ah, you’re the zhong’s kid. why are you here?” kun slipped into his native language, perplexed. the zhong’s used to be close family friends, and he hadn’t seen them since he moved to seoul. chenle just looked relieved that he could speak more freely.

“long story. may i come in? my head hurts; i crashed the car on the way here.”

“you-- can you even drive?” kun spluttered, stepping aside to let chenle stumble past him and drop his suitcase in the entryway.

“yes,” he said, sniffing the air, “i learned hands-on on the way back from the airport. your food is burning.”

kun trudged into the kitchen to rescue his now-smoking pancakes and ignored the fact that this kid drove for about two hours on a national highway without a license. “how long are you visiting? i have a visitor due in… five minutes.”

“uhm.” chenle plopped down onto the shag rug and curled up, “that’s the thing.”

“the… the thing? what’s the thing? and here, wipe your nose with that; it’s bleeding.” he pointed to the kleenex box on the end table.

“i kinda got kicked out,” he smushed his lips together to keep them from wobbling, “so i flew over here.” kun took a moment to take it all in before deciding it was pointless trying to sort it all out.

“cool. alright,” kun sighed, “uh, do you want plain pancakes, or blueberry?”

“blueberry, please. can you--” chenle sniffled a little bit, “can you put ‘em in a smiley face for me?”

“of course. take off your shoes, you can sit on the couch until they’re done.” kun turned back to the stove while chenle kicked off his trillion-dollar muddy sneakers and got snot all over his throw pillows. one of the blueberries in chenle’s pancakes popped, smearing indigo juice down the face. he chopped up some extra strawberries to cover it up.

“here you go. the other boys should be here soon, so you’d better hurry,” kun advised, “they get… loud.” that was an understatement.

approximately five minutes later, no more than ten seconds after chenle sleepily stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, hyuck arrived. he chose to enter by slipping in through the sliding glass door, for whatever reason.

“did you climb up the downspout again?”

hyuck hummed in affirmation and dropped his bag, mud-splattered shoes, and a large posterboard onto the carpet. 

“i just got that shampooed,” kun groaned, mourning his pristine cream carpet. hyuck ignored him.

“i forgot to pay rent on time and shinyoung is out to get me. i had to crawl across the lobby on my hands and knees to avoid her.”

“why are you so scared of her? she’s, like, half your size.” kun returned to the kitchen and plated two more pancakes for hyuck.

“the woman can throw a shoe fifty metres, okay? i’ve seen her hit jaehyun from the third floor window as he was _driving_.” he folded one of the pancakes like it was a taco and shoved it into his mouth, then sloshed it all around with a gulp of orange juice while kun picked at his own plate. they sat in silence for a few moments before hyuck's eye caught on chenle’s shoes, abandoned by the front door.

“whose are those?”

“one of the boys must’ve left them here last time,” kun lied for chenle’s sake. once the other boys found out there was a new kid… god. kun didn’t even want to think about the chaos that would ensue.

“they can _afford_ those? i’d have to sell my soul to get a pair.” 

"you've still got one in there? i was starting to think you were an empty shell." renjun waltzed in (without knocking), thankfully providing a distraction from hyuck’s line of questioning, “kun! how are you?”

“pretty good. hey, where’s yangyang? he’s usually here first. i don’t want him to be late to class.”

“i think he’s helping mrs. kim move out. like, carrying her couch downstairs and stuff with lucas. they’re getting paid a ton. plus he’s only fallen down the stairs like twice so far.” hyuck answered, having finished his second pancake taco. “got both times on video.” he proudly waved his phone around.

“eh, don’t worry about him,” renjun waved a dismissive hand at kun’s concerned expression, “he survived when doyoung ran him over, he’ll be fine bouncing down a few flights of stairs. i think he’s just got a really, really thick skull. and hyuck, send me the videos, please.”

“when did that--- doyoung ran him over--- what?”

“it was actually really funny, i watched from the balcony,” hyuck snorted, “doyoung screamed so loud, you’d have thought he’d hit jeno.”

“what’s that supposed to mean? also, i never heard about this.” kun angrily sipped his orange juice. he’d sort of taken yangyang under his wing when the boy had first moved in on the other side of the building, but it was getting harder and harder to keep an eye on all the kids at once.

“yeah, that happened like, a month and a half ago, get with the times, old man. now where’s my pancake? i’ve got class in half an hour.” renjun checked his watch while kun started another batch of pancakes on the griddle.

“blueberries or no?”

“no. plain, loads of syrup, one strawberry. you know the drill.”

“yes, sir,” kun mocked. “coming right up.”

“excellent.” renjun slid into the barstool next to hyuck and they started playing an intense game of rock paper scissors. it appeared as though the winner of each round got to kick the other under the counter where they’d thought kun couldn’t see. he shrugged, deciding he couldn’t keep the two from maiming each other no matter how much he wanted to.  
jaemin, jeno, and jisung arrived at the same time a few moments later, with jaemin wrapped around jisung like a leech, forcing the younger boy to drag him around. jeno trailed along behind them, as usual, still in his dark green starbucks visor and apron from his early morning shift. 

“morning, mr. qian,” he said, slightly bowing his head like he always did, “i think if i have to make one more caramel latte i’m going to start crying.”

“HI KUN!” jaemin cheered, relinquishing his death grip on jisung and hopping around the counter to steal a handful of blueberries. he’d made theirs in advance, as they all preferred the same order: plain pancake with whipped cream, no syrup. they picked them up off the counter and finished them within minutes.

“do your parents ever feed you three?” he asked, clearing the plates. jeno and jaemin had been roommates as soon as they moved out, and nobody was really certain whether jisung lived with them or with his parents or bounced back and forth. at this point, it was best not to ask.

“yeah, but it’s just not as good as this. always ravioli for dinner, over there,” jisung whined, “what is it with my mother and ravioli? like, i used to enjoy it, but after a month…”

“i make really good quiches,” jeno piped up, “so we have those like, once a week. ham and cheese, spinach and parmesan, bacon and cheddar, the possibilities are endless, plus you can have them for every meal,” he said, obviously thoroughly convinced that quiches were the best food ever.

“i like calzones,” renjun added. hyuck nodded enthusiastically, mouth full of a stolen bite of jisungs pancake, “i make ‘em in the microwave.”

“it’s like a pizza, but better and less likely to get marinara all over the carpet!” hyuck said. 

"so _now_ you're concerned about the state of your flooring," kun muttered. 

“see, quiches are better ‘cause they’re absolutely mess-free,” jeno leaned over the counter, "no chance of possible staining."

“what about the little flakes that come off of the crust?”

“a good, quality quiche doesn’t have flakes. calzones are high risk low reward. quiche, on the other hand, is a very safe bet for any meal.” jeno debated.

“i’ve gotta catch the bus.” jisung got up and shuffled out before hyuck and jeno could start arguing in earnest. jaemin followed, wise to escape.

“calzones are portable. they’re for on-the-go. quiche is for middle-aged white women with nothing better to do.”

“you take that back _right now_.” jeno snarled, nearly climbing over the counter. kun, in the back of his mind, wondered if chenle was sleeping through all of this racket.

“no! i didn’t lie. jun, did i lie?” hyuck frantically waved his hands around.

“nope,” renjun slowly got up and moved towards the sink, watching jeno and hyuck resume their argument from a safe distance.

“hey, hey, hey, stop it.” kun ordered, snapping his fingers and giving them his best glare over the rim of his glasses. “sit and finish your juice.” they obeyed, if only with a prod from renjun. “now get out and go to class.” 

renjun grabbed the other two, still quietly arguing amongst themselves, by their backpacks, “thanks for the pancake.”

“here are your notes for your teachers to excuse you for being tardy. now get out of my apartment.” kun shooed them out, excited to do the dishes in relative silence. he tiptoed over to the bedroom door and peeked in, pleased to see that chenle had managed to sleep through all of that.

somehow, he'd been the only one in the apartment complex to care about the well-being of all of the younger members, rather than doyoung's blatant favoritism or johnny's 'fun dad' character. after a trip into the city where somehow they'd lost jaemin and had spent hours looking for him, johnny had been blacklisted from hanging out with the kids again. most of them were independent already. renjun had been the first to move in, fresh out of his parents house, to the unit diagonal from kun's. hyuck had been next, then jeno and jaemin, then jisung.

he'd grown used to occasionally driving them around, crammed into his suv, to baseball practice (jeno) to auditions for musicals (hyuck) and dance recitals (jisung).  
he finished the dishes and waited for yangyang to arrive. he was the third newest arrival, moving in with xiaojun last year. yangyang had made a possible lethal plate of cookies, burnt to a crisp, and brought it around from apartment to apartment to introduce himself to his new neighbors, and from then on kun decided he had zero self-preservation. this was further proven by the accidents he got himself into; locking himself out of the apartment overnight in early march and deciding the freezing bench outside was a good place to sleep for the night, nearly getting into a fistfight with taeil over a parking space, and skating through the hallways. plus, apparently he'd nearly been the victim in a recent hit and run involving doyoung.

kun would have to ask about that one later. he poured a glass of apple juice and brought it down the hall to the bedroom.

“hello?” he knocked on the door and chenle jolted awake, sitting up and looking lost. “i brought you some juice. i need to get to work soon, so you’re going to have to come with me or, like, get a hotel, or something.” 

“...yeah.” chenle took a moment to process all of it before nodding and cracking his back. “thanks for the juice.” 

“i’m just letting you know that eventually i’m going to have to know why you left home, because i’m not down with housing a fugitive. so, like, if you committed a capital crime i’m going to have to know about it.” 

“it’s not like i _killed_ someone,” chenle snorted, sipping his apple juice. his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. 

“good. now, i need to go to work. i’ll be back around… 6? so i suppose you can find your way back over then." 

"what do you do for a living? did your parents buy this place for you?" chenle asked innocently, and kun burst into raucous laughter. 

"my parents-- my parents just paid for my plane ticket over here. i work at the library," he spluttered out, still giggling. chenle looked taken aback. 

"let me get your glass for you," kun grabbed his empty juice glass and brought it into the kitchen, setting it in the sink to wash when he was back from work. chenle trailed after him, reserving a hotel room downtown on his phone.

“‘kay! thank you a bunch for letting me stay.” chenle made to grab his tesla’s keys, but kun snatched them from the counter and put them in his own pocket. 

“you’re taking the bus. this should be enough,” he slapped a wad of crumpled bills into chenle’s hand, “and you’re taking driving lessons if you plan on staying.” chenle groaned but didn’t argue, stepping into his shoes and pressing the heel counter down with his foot as though they were slippers. 

“i guess i’ll see you later, then,” he said, resigned to taking public transportation. kun hummed and started gathering his things he needed for work. 

“see you--” chenle shut the door before he could finish. 

he slipped into his shoes and checked both ways out of habit before stepping out of his apartment. he’d narrowly avoided being mowed down by skateboards often enough for it to become instinctual. yuta exited his own apartment across the hall at almost the same time, smiling good-naturedly and fixing his tie. he worked some monotonous, draining day job from 9 to 5, but always seemed genuinely excited to head to work, and about everything else, for that matter. kun had never seen him without a smile on his face.

“good morning, kun!” he smiled and hurried down into the parking garage. 

“morning,” he nodded, “have a nice day at work.” 

“you too! wish me luck; i might get a raise.” yuta pumped his fist and hunched over to fit in his car.

“i’m sure you will, you have the best morale i’ve ever seen.” now that he thought about it, he deserved a raise too. he’d taken on his coworkers hours on top of his own when she went on vacation, and he was still working them now that she was fired for extending said vacation past the allotted time. it wasn’t like kun blamed her; if he had to deal with the read-alouds for the local children he’d want a month of vacation too.

however, those who worked in public services could only dream.


End file.
